Heather and Velvet (17 page)

Devony drummed her fingernails on the table. The squire snapped open a silver case and sucked a pinch of snuff up his bulbous nose.

Sebastian gazed around wildly, wondering if he had imagined the entire scene.

“Didn’t you see that?” he demanded.

Tricia fanned herself with her cards as Prudence darted between the hedges at the foot of the garden. “It’s only Prudence out for her afternoon stroll.”

Devony tapped one of her cards thoughtfully. “Lovely day for a walk, isn’t it?”

“Nothing like a daily bit of exercise to aid the digestion,” Squire Blake said, and sneezed into his handkerchief.

Sebastian slowly sank back in his chair. It was no wonder Prudence insisted on fading into the scrollwork. They all treated her as if she were invisible.

As she passed out of sight among the grove of lime trees
bordering the lawn, he glanced down to discover he had mangled the cards in his hand.

“More tea, sir?” Old Fish’s white-gloved hand proffered a tray.

“No!” Sebastian barked. His answer came out louder than he intended.

Old Fish sniffed in obvious derision of any gentleman with the audacity to refuse tea. “Very well, sir. Perhaps later.”

Sebastian caught his arm. The tray wavered. “Not now. And not later. Not this evening. Not tomorrow morning. Not ever.
No more tea.”

The butler’s pasty complexion went a shade paler. Sebastian realized the others were staring at him. He fought the urge to check his palms for tufts of hair or feel his brow for the beginning knobs of horns.

He stood, dropping his destroyed cards. “Do excuse me. My leg is throbbing. I believe I’ll take a nap.”

He forced himself to press a kiss to the powdered mask of Tricia’s cheek. Leaning heavily on his cane, he left the parlor, shuddering at the sympathetic clucking that followed him.

As soon as he was out of sight of the parlor, Sebastian dropped his cane in the potted orange tree in the entrance hall. He strode out the front door and across the lawn, taking care to skirt the parlor window.

The gardens and lawns yielded no sign of Prudence. He passed through the grove of lime trees and into the blessed wildness of a rolling meadow. The tall grasses swept to life around him, tossed and flattened by the warm wind. Patches of cornflowers and buttercups waved through the soft green. If he could only walk fast enough and far enough, surely the earth itself would swallow Lindentree and its mistress without a trace.

The darkening clouds sifted the sunlight, throwing the meadow into shadow.

“Prudence?” His cry sounded faint and dismal in a silence broken only by the distant whisper of wind.

The sun chose that moment to defy the clouds and flood the meadow. He shielded his eyes. A dense forest of pine hung in a blue haze at the edge of the fields. He strode toward it, lured by the promise of a cool respite to quench his burning restlessness. As he entered the forest, the crisp tang of pine penetrated his fuzzy senses, along with the steady chirp of a cricket. The long, fragrant boughs swayed in hypnotic rhythm, lulled by the wind murmuring through them.

Sebastian’s borrowed serenity was shattered as a woman’s piteous cry shamed the voices of the forest to silence.

He ducked beneath a shaggy branch. Prudence knelt on a smooth rock that jutted over a still pool, her face buried in her hands.

He knelt beside her, his heart pounding in his ears, and gently touched her heaving shoulder. “What is it, lass? What is the matter?”

She threw back her head, baring the delicate line of her throat to the caress of the sun. Tears spiked her short dark lashes. “I was too late.” She pointed down the hill behind her in horror. “Oh, Sebastian!”

He almost lost his balance as she flung herself at his chest. He had no way of knowing if her passionate declaration was meant for him or her cat. He was too busy pondering the charms of having his coat kneaded by her slender fingers.

She snuffled into his cravat, and he cradled her head in his palm, staring beyond her at the object she had indicated. Tufts of coarse gray fur protruded from the mossy hollow. A baffled frown creased his brow.

“Prudence, where are your spectacles?”

His matter-of-fact tone startled her into silence. “On my dressing table, I suppose. I forgot them. I had been dressing for tea before I rushed out.”

He could not help but notice that she had also forgotten her corset and stays. The scandalous softness of her breasts against his chest made him feel giddy and slightly breathless.

She wiped her eyes with his cravat. “The garden gate was only open for a few minutes. I had no way of knowing
Boris was loose. My poor, dear Sebastian,” she murmured. “How terrible …”

“Terrible indeed for the unfortunate squirrel,” Sebastian said dryly.

She gazed up at him, wide-eyed. His lips twitched. Slowly she turned to gaze down the hill; her eyes narrowed to brilliant slits of violet. Sebastian-cat chose that moment to dart out from the trees, back arched. With a halfhearted bark, Boris padded after him. The kitten skittered sideways, spitting like a tiny demon. A swipe of one furry paw raked a trail of crimson down Boris’s shiny nose. With a wounded yelp, the hound slunk back into the woods, his tail tucked between his massive hindquarters.

The kitten rolled onto his side and began to groom himself with his rough pink tongue. Sebastian threw back his head with a burst of deep-throated laughter.

“But I thought Boris had eaten—” Prudence clapped a hand over her mouth, but not before a merry peal of joy escaped. Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks.

Sebastian wiped them away with his fingers. “Squire Blake is more likely to eat your kitten than that cowardly mutt. I saw the old chap eyeing the peacocks only yesterday at tea.”

That sent Prudence into a new fit of laughter. Helpless with mirth, she clung to his shoulders. He anchored a lean arm around her waist and hugged her against him. His lips brushed her cheek. Too late, they both realized his embrace was not that of an uncle.

The eternity of the past week melted as Sebastian’s mouth drifted to the curve of her cheekbone and he tasted the softness of her unpowdered skin. Her eyes were pressed shut as if she could somehow deny the lingering descent of his mouth, even as her hands closed in helpless fists against his shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her feathery lashes; the salt of her tears burned him. He soothed the sting by dipping his tongue between her parted lips; only to ignite a slow, steady burn in his loins. His arm curved around the small of her back, dragging her hips against the aching cradle of his thighs. It was no longer enough to be inside of her lovely mouth. He wanted to be inside of her everywhere.

Dear God, he thought. He was falling hopelessly in love with this beautiful, clumsy, bespectacled spinster.

He buried his face in the sheltering hollow of her throat. “Oh, lass, I’ve missed you so.”

A long, still moment passed.

Prudence shoved at his chest and sprang to her feet as if the rock had sprouted flames. Her heavy mane of hair tumbled around her shoulders.

Sebastian climbed to his feet, still shaking with desire. “One glimpse of your hair in London and they would know why powder and wigs are beginning to pall.”

She tilted her nose in the air, but not before he saw dread darken her eyes. “You followed me,” she said. A note of accusation tinged her voice.

He took a congenial step forward. She took a wary step backward.

He locked his hands at the small of his back, striving to look every inch the country gentleman. “When I saw you go rushing off, I was naturally concerned. It is ironic that I should be the one to remind you, but there are robbers about the countryside. You shouldn’t be out unchaperoned.”

“And it is ironic that I should be the one to remind you, Lord Kerr, but there are also robbers in my aunt’s parlor. One place should be as safe as the other. It would be as simple for you to drop Plato’s bust on my head as drown me, although considerably less tidy.”

Sebastian was still too addled to understand what she was babbling about. His gaze traveled over the skin exposed by the unbuttoned throat of her gown, then glided over her body, down to her bare toes peeping out from her torn stockings. “I should hate to think what men like my own might do if they found you in such a vulnerable state.”

She sniffed. “You don’t hate to think of it at all. Quite the opposite, I’m sure—
Uncle
Sebastian,” she added for pure spite.

His brows drew together. “What manner of scoundrel do you think me?”

It infuriated Prudence that even though she knew he was a lowly assassin, she could still be entranced by the teasing
touch of his lips, the fluid play of emotions across the imperfect beauty of his features.

Her jaw tightened, and she turned her back on him before he had her mumbling an apology for forcing him to kill her. “I think you the lowest sort of scoundrel. If you desire to play loving uncle to my doting niece, you should search for another actress. Some silly chit you can teach to cheat at whist and dandle on your knee before you slide your filthy dirk between her shoulder blades.”

She shivered as his hand slipped beneath her hair to cup her neck. She would have preferred a pinch or a slap to this lethal tenderness.

“I’d love to dandle you on my knee,” he murmured. “Or anywhere else for that matter.” His thumb slid around her throat, and she knew he could feel the havoc he was wreaking with her pulse.

She tugged free of him. “Do stop it! I hate it when you’re kind.”

Sebastian’s hand closed on her forearm. Her words were finally beginning to penetrate the warm haze of his emotions.

Prudence could feel the heat of his touch through her thin cotton sleeve as he pulled her around to face him. “Would it be more in character if I strangled you with your stockings?”

She could no longer hide the fear that flared her nostrils and set her lower lip to trembling.

Sebastian’s hands fell to his sides. His eyes darkened to the color of the storm-threatening clouds rushing across the sky. “My God, lass, I was only joking. What have I done to make you fear me so?”

Impotent rage surged through her. “Nothing yet. But I know what you intend to do. You must have found my little speech very touching when I promised not to be a burden to you. You knew quite well that I wasn’t going to be around long enough to be a burden to anyone.” As she spoke she walked backward, unwittingly nearing the sharpened crag of rock and the deep pool sleeping beneath. “It galls me most that you weren’t honest enough to take responsibility for your own decision. You let your men think another
wanted me dead when all the time it was you.” Her heel touched the edge of the rock.

Sebastian lunged for her. Fear twisted through her, and she wheeled around to flee.

Too late, she realized she was on the edge of the rock. Her foot met only air and she tumbled off the warm rock into the chill water.

The pool dragged her into its depths. The shock of falling opened her mouth and water rushed into her throat. She pushed her way upward, skinning her knuckles on rock. Her skirts clung to her legs. A slimy strand of weed tangled around one knee. She clawed at it, feeling a jagged flare of pain as a fingernail tore away. The panic that had closed her throat before she could take a breath erupted now in a frantic dance that twisted the ropy weed tighter around her leg.

With a shudder of relief, her body went limp. As she floated in the weed’s embrace, her head fell back. She watched the muted play of sunlight drifting on the water until the world went as gray as Sebastian’s eyes.

A
cloud covered the sun, severing its warmth like an unseen hand. Lightning streaked the sky as Sebastian stared at the pool.

Prudence’s fall into the water had set off bubbling ripples across the dark mirror of its surface. His grandfather’s words echoed through his mind like the distant rumble of thunder:
I would like her dispatched. Something simple. A fall from a horse. A hunting accident. You know how to arrange such things
. As Sebastian watched, the ripples settled, leaving the pool an unmarked sheet of indigo.

“Prudence?” A tentative echo carried his whisper back to him. On the other side of the pool, a tree frog lisped into song.

Sebastian pulled off his shoes. A hoarse note of panic touched his voice as he called her name again. The forest let out a wistful, sighing breath. The swaying trees creaked a reply. From the depths of the pool, though, came nothing but silence. How simple it would be to turn around, walk back to the house, and pretend he’d never passed this way.

He tore off his coat with a curse. His dive broke the water with the barest hint of a splash. His hands groped in the murky water at what felt like hair. It came away in his grip and he was left holding a fragile clump of grass and dirt. He strained his eyes to see, still blinded by the light above. A glimpse of pale white started his heart thundering in his ears.

His powerful body shot toward the absence of darkness. His hands closed in a convulsive movement around the fleshy coolness of Prudence’s arm. Her skirts billowed at her waist. Her hair floated around her face in a silky web. Her eyes were closed, her lashes pressed like ferns against her cheeks.